One particular evening. my usual Partner could not make it for the run to the ranch lands. Recognizing the rut was winding down, I decided to wander off there solo, and give it yet another try...
That evening, a good handful of does wandered by, and I had an unusual encounter with one set of them. One of the
Leading Ladies had kicked her bambi out for the rut about a week previous to this date. That
Little One seriously Adopted me, and would follow me around like a pup at times when wandering to and from the blinds. In fact, it was something of a nuisance at times, as it would stroll right up to the blind and cheerily greet me on occasion. It became something of a joke amongst the ranchers, and they referred to this displaced fawn as
My Little Friend. Guess she kind of was, I have to admit to developing a little bit of a
soft spot for her...
That afternoon, the
Leading Lady (whom I had seen in the accompaniment of several bucks over the past week) came out and was feeding about 40 yards from my blind. Shortly after her arrival,
My Little Friend made an appearance, and cautiously approached her Mama. The doe initially rebuked this advance by jumping HARD in the little one's direction a couple of times. The fawn hung it's head, obviously dejected at the rebuke, and obviously sulking. Mama then shook her head, studied her little one for a minute, the sidled up to her fawn and began to groom her. This lasted for a good 10 minutes, after which the
Little One jumped Frantically and Joyously all around for a considerable time! Rather an interesting watch for me, but also
Strongly signaled the rut was OVER - at least for that particular Gal...
As the evening progressed, a handful of other does joined in the feeding parade, accompanied not by their little ones, but rather by young & hopeful
up-and-comer bucks. One was so eager he attempted to sniff the business area of one of the larger Gals, and she responded with a double rear blast of both hind hooves to the chops! Sounded like pistol shots going off, and damn near leveled the little bugger! It was damn tough not to laugh out loud at his misfortune and give myself away!
Shortly after that display, ALL of the young bucks suddenly lifted their heads, staring
HARD back into the timber behind them.
Hmmm...
Just as suddenly they all remembered a
serious appointment somewhere else, and departed rather quickly. The does did not appear to be overly concerned though, with but a few glances from time to time in the same direction...
Hmmm...
In the fading light, I saw two
Ghostly Shapes moving quietly through the timber towards the feeding does. Binocs confirmed, first one Doe. Second one...
Antlers.
Who The Hell is THAT? My eyeballs felt like they were being sucked right through the lenses as I tried to determine just
Which buck was now approaching. I've seen you before... I DO recognize you...
BUT...
Sudden Realization! It's the Big Four from last year!! Where the hell have You been all year? And the realization that he, too, has slid somewhat downhill in the antler department since I last saw him. Instead of sporting his 4x4 frame, he was now packing a 4x2 set?
Still... Reasonably Wide, Reasonably Tall, Reasonably Heavy...
Dozens of thoughts raced through my mind as he continued his approach. He AIN'T what I was looking for this season. But those Boys have been downright Elusive of late, and the season IS winding down...
And... After last year's serious effort, it would be Nice to finally collect him...
Hmmm...
When he broke cover, one of the feeding does startled, causing him to walk along the far edge of the herd.
Hmmm...
Range: 44 Yards.
We have Enjoyed
The Dance My Friend, and I guess it is now time to bring that to it's conclusion...
Decision made, I readied the Matrix and ever so slowly raised it to my shoulder. The Buck continued to stroll slowly along the far side of the herd, and when he came to a good opening between the rest, I gave a soft bleat with the excellent Wabi call I collected for just that purpose. Confused, he turned to look behind him, then stalled out...
The Trigger Tech Trigger broke ever so cleanly, the Boo String launched one of Big John's
Works of Art, the Spitfire broadhead sped towards it's target, and the Luminok lighted it's path along it's short journey...
PERFECT Hit! The Buck jumped, ran 10 feet, looked around, then slowly walked away from the herd. Reloading quickly, at first I thought my perception of the shot was in error. At 30 yards, he again stopped, then toppled over without so much as a kick.
The Luminok glowed brightly back in the timber, and after watching the buck for 20 minutes (no movement) I went over and retrieved it. The blood trail could have been followed by a Blind Man in the now dark of evening, and the offside of the buck's flank was so soaked I refused to roll that side up for his final picture...
As is usual for me, many emotions swam through me as I gazed upon him. Was a hell of a Fun Dance with him, and I guess I'll always wonder just where he'd been hiding all these months. Not the two
Big Boys I was after this season, likely their Dad or an Uncle I'd guess. But a Sweet way to end up the season regardless.
Within mere days of that, I wandered over to the mainland for an attempt at whitetails and mulies again. First for me coming home empty after that run, guess the weather and the
Goddess of the Hunt had decided my season was already blessed enough this year. I will be back on that one...
And Rest Assured, My Quest for a Big Blacktail will
NEVER end! I just Hope that one year, that quest is rewarded with Big Ol' Boy that isn't "
A Year In The Making"...
Cheers,
Nog
"Political correctness is a doctrine, fostered by a delusional, illogical minority, and rabidly promoted by an unscrupulous mainstream media, which holds forth the proposition that it is entirely possible to pick up a turd by the clean end."